With the Cicada-Wing Saber in his hands, a great weight finally lifted from Pan Long's heart.
The Greenwood experts who had surrounded him must have found that fight frustrating. Pan Long had found it even more so.
He was, after all, a peerless warrior impervious to blades and spears, with strength beyond compare. He had once broken through an army of a hundred thousand single-handedly. Powerful as these dozen or so Innate Masters were, he should not have fought this long without taking down even one.
But he had been wary of that treasured saber, sharp enough to slice through iron like mud. He had not dared stop moving, and had used barely two or three tenths of his abilities.
If not for his immense endurance, all that frantic running might have worn him to death.
Now, at last, the tables had turned!
The Cicada-Wing Saber was in his hands, and his enemies had no way left to hold him back. He could unleash everything without a care and show these Greenwood fighters what he was capable of!
Pan Long let out a long, exhilarated howl and charged straight at them.
Before he reached them, three or four Greenwood experts spun around, rushed out of the hall, and vanished into the night.
Few who reached the Innate Realm were fools, least of all these Greenwood experts. They could see that Pan Long had been wary of the treasured saber and had never brought all his skills to bear.
Now that the saber no longer threatened him, heaven knew what else he had up his sleeve!
Still, they were Innate Masters, figures of renown in the Martial World. To run off like that... it was rather humiliating.
Someone among those who remained could not help cursing them at the top of